


Moebius Strips (But Not All the Way)

by Castalia (castalianspring)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Reality, Episode AU: s08e19-20 Moebius, Episode Related, First Time, M/M, Missing Scene, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-12
Updated: 2005-04-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2307269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castalianspring/pseuds/Castalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene for Moebius part 1. AU!Paul and AU!Daniel in a supply closet. Blowjobs ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moebius Strips (But Not All the Way)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is not my fault. Nevertheless I apologize for the horrible pun and beg your forgiveness. Thanks to Britts and Zazzle for inspiration and encouragement, and to Joan who though entirely unhelpful about the title was nicely supportive even at 3 AM. And as always, to Willow, for just about everything I can think of and then some.

"We’re waiting to see General Hammond."

The reticent, smug look on Dr Jackson's face as he made this pronouncement both irritated and amused Paul Davis. Jackson and Carter both sat there trying to play him, fumbling for leverage wherever they could. Well, he wasn’t anyone's lacky or message boy, and damned if he’d let two frumpy academics get the better of him.

"He's busy. Why don't you tell me and I'll decide if it's worth interrupting him."

A few not-so-subtle glances were exchanged, then Jackson slid the folder to Carter, who pushed it forward to Paul. He opened it and listened to her explanation, then snapped his eyes up to focus once again on Dr Jackson as the smart-ass failed to resist imparting one last dig.

"Worth it?" indeed. Who knew the geeky archaeologist with the atrocious fashion sense was capable of such a smug, flirtatious expression? Paul resisted the urge to smile, quickly excusing himself so he could bring the new information to Hammond's attention. Once that was taken care of, he could indulge himself and see about wiping that smirk off Jackson's face.

*********

"General Hammond will see you now."

Both academics started to rise, then Paul glanced at Jackson, a casual, indifferent gaze.

"Not you. Just Carter." He motioned to a uniformed man just outside the door, "Sergeant Campbell will escort you," then handed her the folder with her printout of the map of Antarctica. Carter sort of hopped forward, took it, then scampered after the sergeant, tugging at her sweater awkwardly.

Paul turned and pinned Daniel with a look. "You get to come with me." Jackson adjusted his glasses, visibly confused, and rose but gave no indication he’d noticed the deliberate double entendre. He detoured around the briefing table, and as he passed by Paul put a hand to the small of Daniel's back to guide him out of the room, smothering a pleased smirk as the man started and darted his eyes in Paul's direction but didn't move away from the hand.

"Where are we going?" The voice was calm but curious, tinged with just a hint of nervous energy.

"My office. There are a few things I'd like to...discuss with you, if you don’t mind."

Jackson blinked behind his glasses. "Um, no. I don't mind." He brushed at his hair, the limp strands perpetually hanging in his eyes. The man was definitely attractive, would probably clean up nicely if he cut the hair (or at least stopped parting it in the middle), found some glasses that suited him and didn't hide so much of his face, and got rid of the sweater vests. Paul had the impression that Jackson didn't try very hard these days - being stuck in a lousy job with lousy pay when one had a couple of PhDs to one's name obviously took its toll.

He continued to lead Jackson down the corridors in the opposite direction from his office, finally stopping outside a little used upper level supply closet. No cameras and a small chance of anyone popping in to get anything, what with most everyone on base running around on the lower levels in all the recent excitement. He opened the door and flicked on the dim light then gestured for Jackson to enter first, once again laying a hand on Daniel's lower back to guide him.

Jackson blinked as his eyes adjusted to the suddenly low lighting, then glanced around the small room.

"...this doesn't look like your office." As he started to turn, Paul shut the door behind him, locked it, and made his move, pushing the taller man up against the nearest stretch of bare wall. Jackson gaped at him, mouth open, eyebrows climbing almost to his hairline. One hand came up to rest palm-down on Paul's midriff, the other grasping at the adjacent shelving. "What are you doing?"

The question lacked any trace of fear or true reproach, and Jackson licked his lips after delivering it, causing Paul’s own to quirk up into a slight smile. He reached up and traced Daniel's jaw, teasing at the smooth skin, amused when the eyebrows rose even further and his blue eyes darkened.

"Let's get rid of these, shall we?" Paul plucked the glasses from Daniel’s face, setting them down on a box of copier paper, then trailed his fingers down to the top button of the sweater vest. "And this...this really needs to go." He made quick work of the buttons, then slid the coarse material off Jackson's shoulders, encouraged by the expression in his eyes. Next he reached for the man's rather ugly tie, tugging at the loose knot until it gave, then dropped it on top of the fallen vest, fingers returning to undo a few buttons on Daniel's shirt and tease at the exposed skin.

Paul stepped closer and Daniel's hand returned to rest on Paul's stomach, but he didn't push him away. Instead his fingers curled into the light blue material of Paul's shirt. He licked his lips again. "Major?"

Paul leaned closer, mouth hovering over Jackson's. "Paul. May I call you Daniel? I have a strange but insistent feeling we should be on a first-name basis." He pressed his mouth to Daniel's, teasing the other man's lips apart and sucking on the lower one, his hands moving down to tug the white shirt out of Jackson’s pants. He touched bare skin and heard a slight gasp, the sounds of breathing abnormally loud in the tiny room. Paul's mouth curved into a grin as he licked his way down Daniel's neck and unfastened his belt and pants, sliding the zipper down quickly and reaching in to squeeze Daniel's already half-hard cock. His own dick twitched as a low moan escaped Daniel's lips and the fingers tightened in his shirt. Jackson smelled enticing and somehow comfortably familiar, his soft noises of pleasure sending sparks of desire straight to Paul's groin. He shoved Daniel's pants and boxers down and slid to his knees in one unceremonious movement, one hand teasing at the other man's cock until it was fully erect, then took it in his mouth and began to suck.

*******

Daniel Jackson, PhD was having what was quite possibly the strangest day of his life. Since his morning ESL class had been interrupted by the US Air Force he'd been taken to a high security military base, seen an alternate (and much better looking) version of himself on videotape, translated what was essentially a note from himself to himself, and now suddenly and without warning there was a really hot USAF officer going down on him in a supply closet.

Ok, strike that. Dr Daniel Jackson was having what was quite possibly the _best_ day of his life.

He tried to remember the last time he'd gotten laid and came up blank. Of course, higher brain function seemed to be at a general low at the moment anyway, what with Major Davis's enthusiastic efforts to suck every brain cell he had out through his dick. Despite the odd jolt of recognition he'd felt when he first saw the man, that kept niggling at him from time to time, he didn't really know anything about him.

However, obviously he could add "very good with his mouth" to the list.

It was over far too quickly. Too much sensation after far too long without, and Daniel came with a strangled cry, clutching at the shelving to keep himself upright. Fingers which had somehow found their way into the major's hair clenched tightly around the short strands as his harsh pants echoed through the room. He stayed slumped against the wall, eyes shut, focusing on the tiny waves of pleasure still coursing through his body as Davis continued suckling at his softening cock. Then that wonderful wet heat was removed and he heard a soft chuckle as his pants were set to rights and he was kissed again, the mingling flavors on Davis' - no, Paul's - tongue a strange yet exciting novelty. The lips and tongue withdrew and Daniel opened dazed eyes, squinting a bit in his myopia.

"Well now, Dr Jackson. Daniel. Was that 'worth it'?" Forget the cat that had gotten at the cream; that smirk outdid any feline when it came to smugness and Daniel found his sense of humor, almost dormant after years of stagnating in such an unchallenging existence, rising to the occasion. He wanted to turn the tables again, to continue with this dance he'd found himself invited to join with a partner he barely knew but who seemed to know all the right steps.

"Mostly. The moustache kinda tickles, though."

Paul's smirk widened into a grin, that soft chuckle once again permeating the room. "Make it worth my while and I’ll shave it off." He paused, considering. "Maybe get you a haircut while we’re at it, stick you in some BDUs..."

Daniel ignored the slight, reaching up to grip Paul's shoulders and reverse their positions. He caressed the other man through his trousers, smiling to himself when a pleased glint of arousal flashed in Paul's eyes.

Oh, yes. This was turning out to be a very good day. As he sank to his knees, Daniel idly wondered if his other self had a Paul Davis of his own and if so, whether or not he'd taken advantage of the fact. He hoped so; otherwise, he was going to have to figure out some way to leave a note for himself, purity of the timeline be damned. This was definitely worth it, in any reality.


End file.
